Scars
by Thepopcornpup
Summary: "'Where do ya think they'd take him? A bright-eyed kid with nothin' but a flimsy banner on a crutch to defend himself? Where they've got 'im, they'll do anything to take the light outta that kid's eyes. You got any guesses' Davey just stared at Race, his heart sinking to his stomach. Race glared back. 'Or, did ya buddy Jack not tell ya about the Refuge'" (One-Shot)


**Author's Note: Hello there! So, after over a month, I've finally written the story I promised Ostritch On A Rampage! Sorry it took so long, but it's here! Yay! (Speaking of Ostrich On A RRamage, you all need to go read their stories, because they are fantastic. Just have a box of tissues nearby when you do.)**

 **So, I'm not too sure how I feel about this story. The style is a bit different from my usual style, and I still haven't decided whether I like it or not. I'm also not sure whether I like the ending or not, but yeah. Here it is. Woo!**

 **That's all I've got to say! As always, reviews are very appreciated! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

Jack met eyes with Snyder. In just one look, Jack could see what was in store for him. He'd be starved. Beaten. Nearly driven insane from isolation. He knew that Snyder would break Jack Kelly, just like he'd broken Francis Sullivan.

Not again.

So, he ran. Jack dashed away as fast as his legs could carrying him. And, if he ran fast enough, he could almost convince himself that he didn't hear the heart-piercing screams of his brother calling his name.

* * *

A heavy air hung over the air of the Lodging House as Davey shuffled in, with Les trailing behind him. The older boy glanced around the room, and bruised faces stared back. But, he couldn't find the face he was looking for. "Where's Jack?" He asked quietly.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Race grumbled, shooting Davey a glare.

"We dunno," Specs frowned, but his demeanor was a lot more inviting than Race's. "We haven't seen him since the Bulls showed up."

"Have you checked the roof?" Les asked with a glance upwards. "Jack told me likes going up there sometimes."

"Yeah, we'se checked," Buttons sighed. "If he was up there, he's gone now."

Davey began pacing. "What about Crutchie?"

The crowd hung the heavy silence back up in the air, shifting their eyes to look anywhere but at Davey.

Davey didn't seem to notice this as he continued, "Do you think he's with Jack?"

"Oh, we all saw where he went," Race muttered darkly. Specs shot him a warning look, which he blatantly ignored.

"Where is he then?" Davey asked hopefully.

"Take a guess, Mouth!" Race exclaimed, standing up. "Where do ya think they'd take him? A bright-eyed kid with nothin' but a flimsy banner on a crutch to defend himself? Where they've got 'im, they'll do anything to take the light outta that kid's eyes. You got any guesses?"

Davey just stared at Race, his heart sinking to his stomach.

Race glared back. "Or, did ya buddy Jack not tell ya about the Refuge?"

* * *

Blurs of city lights and mumurs of guards and arrested kids floated around Crutchie as he slipped in and out of awareness. In the foggy haze around him, there were only a few things he knew for certain:

1\. The Delancey's had soaked him successfully.

2\. He saw Jack run away, but not before making brief eye contact with him.

3\. He was being taken to the Refuge.

* * *

Davey shook his head. "No, they...they couldn't have taken him there."

"Oh, they did," Race's icy stare was unwavering. "Saw it just a second too late."

"Well, we can get him out, right?" Davey asked. The only response he got was an unhumorous laugh from Race. Hesitantly, he added, "I mean, Jack got out, so who says Crutchie can't?"

Race sucked in a breath, looking about ready to blow a fuse, but Specs stopped him gently. "Race, don't take it out on him. It ain't Davey's fault."

Race shifted his gaze towards Specs for a moment before signing and turning back to Davey, who stared at the two of them like a deer in the headlights. Crossing his arms, Race said in a low voice, "Listen, I don't know what sweet world you come from, where the most trouble you get in is bein' swatted with the ruler at school when you does somethin' bad, or you get a tellin' off from your mommy and daddy, but welcome to our world, where slippin' up gets you landed in hands of adults who don't give a damn about your health and safety. They just want you outta their way, that's all they care about. So, for a crip like Crutchie? He don't stand a chance."

* * *

Jack still remembered everything about the Refuge. They were far-away memories, yet they very well could have just happened yesterday. He remembered being crammed into a rickety bunk with four to five other boys, fighting over a flimsy blanket to make sure they weren't the next one to freeze. He remembered the rats that scurried across your feet and the spiders that seemed to have webs in every corner. He remembered the little scraps of food he was seldom allowed. He remembered what Snyder said and did...which were things he didn't want to get into.

He also remembered promising Crutchie he'd never have to go through that.

Jack punched the wall beside him and grunted, "Stupid."

* * *

Davey looked at Race, unable to find words. Finally, he asked softly, "What do they do to you in the Refuge? Surely, it can't...I mean..." Davey, losing his ability to make sense under the calculating stare Race kept on him, trailed off before repeating, "What do they do to you there?"

Race sighed and looked down, letting our a bitter chuckle. He sat back down on the bunk nearest to him, refusing to answer.

Davey looked around at the rest of the Newsies. "How many of you have been to the Refuge?"

Almost every boy in that room raised his hand.

Davey swallowed hard. "Can any of you tell me what they do there?"

The shifting glances returned as each boy's hand fell at his side. Finally, Romeo stood up. "I'll tell ya, Dave."

* * *

Medda knew something wasn't right when she heard clattering backstage, especially since every other actor had gone home. She peeked back the curtain, and wasn't sure whether or not she should be relieved at the source of the sound.

Jack was curled in-between set pieces, his clothes torn and his face bleeding. He glanced up at her with eyes that looked simultaneously very young and very old.

"Jack?" She asked gently. "What's wrong, honey?"

"I screwed up bad," He mumbled. "I screwed up real bad, Medda."

Medda kneeled down in front of Jack. "You need a place to stay tonight?"

Jack looked down. "I'm fine right here," He muttered. "I've slept in worse places."

Medda shook her head. "Don't be silly, honey. Let's get you cleaned up, and I'm sure I can find some place for you in one of the dressing rooms."

* * *

"You'se already seen the stuff they done to us in the Refuge, Davey. It's shown in a lotta things, really. It's shown in the way I haven't made it through the night without a nightmare in five years, and Race has gotta wake me up to tell me I'se fine. It's shown in the way Race was mute for a few months, and how, even though he talks more than anyone I know, he still gets these real quiet moments. It's shown in the way Finch double and triple checks his stuff before bed every night, just to make sure it's still there. It's shown in the way Albert'll get real mad if someone else sits on his bunk, 'cause he's scared they'se gonna take his place. It's shown in the way Jojo can't stay still. It's shown in the way Spot jumps when someone touches him unexpectedly, and threatens to soak anyone who does so. It's shown in the way Jack says he's gotta get out of New York, the way he needs to get out. We'se all got scars from the Refuge, inside and out." Romeo took in a breath. "We're just scared they'se gonna scar up Crutchie, too. He don't deserve that. None of us did."

* * *

Jack closed his eyes. Medda had cleaned him up in silence, and had found an empty dressing room and few blankets for him. He was sure that she had no clue what had happened, what he'd done.

But, before she left him alone, she said, "It's not your fault."

Jack opened one eye. "What's that supposed ta mean?"

"I could hear everything from outside, " She admitted. "Crutchie's a real tough kid, tougher than most of you boys give him credit for. He'll get through this. So will you."

Jack scoffed. "I'm done, Medda. I ain't screwin' this anymore than I already has."

Medda frowned. "Sleep on it, Jack."

Jack closed his eye again. "Good night, Medda."

Medda flicked off the light. "Good night."

* * *

Davey let Romeo's words settle with him. He turned them over in his head before responding, "I can't imagine what the Refuge is like. Race is right, I'm sheltered. But, you guys aren't, and, I've seen the way you guys bounced back. I mean, look at you, Romeo, flirting with all the girls you sell to. There's Race, who's got the wittiest mouth I've ever seen. There's Finch, who's more welcoming and friendly than any of guys I ever called 'friend' from my school. There's Albert and Jojo, who tell the funniest jokes, and there's Spot, who I've heard enough stories about to know that he's a real strong guy. Then, there's Jack, the leader. You guys aren't just scarred. You've kept your heads up high. This is just another bump in the road, but there's no reason to give up now, right?"

A ghost of a smile appeared on Romeo's face. "I suppose you're right."

Race didn't smile, but he did look up at Davey, his stare no longer ice. "Hmm. Seems as if Cowboy's ol' leader stuff rubbin' off on you."

* * *

Crutchie hated the Refuge from the moment he opened his eyes and saw the bleary view of the bunks around him. His eyes landed on his crutch, which was leaned uo against the wall in the corner of the room. The tattered "strike!" banner put a small smile on his face. He blinked and whispered, "We can still seize the day."


End file.
